Willowy Five

WILLOWY FIVE In a dusted river of drought is no place for a daydream still I cannot stay away my fingers slide in her willowy five she pulls me, baby down through the cracks of mud into streams of blood she pulls me, baby down in a dusted river of drought is no place for a daydream the science of the mind the burden of the soul wrap around me and a cold wind blows the peaks to which we climb the depths to which we fall, don’t fall I’m stepping out of the shadow, where the shade’s grown tall my fingers slide in her willowy five she pulls me, baby down through the cracks of mud into streams of blood she pulls me, baby down